


Advice: Save Yourself

by Mothgender



Category: Megamind (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Megamind is a bit more fishy, Minion is still a fish, Roxanne craves adventure on the open sea, Wayne would rather stay on land but this is what is expected of him, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29309574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothgender/pseuds/Mothgender
Summary: There was a tale told of two men who fell from the stars, both villains in their own right.This is not that tale.
Relationships: Megamind/Roxanne Ritchi
Comments: 13
Kudos: 29





	1. This Is Not The Tale You Know

There was a tale told of two men who fell from the stars, both villains in their own right. A tale of how power does not corrupt, but how it brings out the true nature of those who have it.

This is not that tale.

There once was a tale told of a couple that lived by the sea, whose wish for a child was so great Poseidon himself fashioned one for them.

This is not that tale.

There are tales told of beautiful women with voices so fair that would drive men to dive into the sea, where they are drowned by webbed hands and torn asunder by sharp teeth.

This is not quite that tale.

This is a tale of sirens and merfolk, do not confuse the two, they are not interchangeable. Most people agree on the basic form of merfolk; humanesque upper half, fishy lower half.

No one agrees on what sirens are.

Some thought of them as half bird half woman. Many confuse them with merfolk, but do not be swayed, they are not the same.

This is a tale of two men from the sea. 

You know the first one, and you know him well. He’s that good-looking lad that lives up on the hill overlooking the sea. Yes, that’s right, the Scott boy all the ladies have been trying to court.

Now wait a moment, you’ll say, the Scott boy isn’t a fish, I saw him just the other day in the market. But how closely did you look, friend? The boy’s got a nice winning smile I’ll give you that, but have you noticed how sharp those teeth are? How his eyes seem to linger whenever there’s blood involved?

That boy is a predator, no matter how sweet the song he sings.

The second one now, you don’t know him and you wouldn’t recognize him for what he is. Thing about merfolk that no one seems to grasp, they ain’t just human folk with fish tails. They’re as varied and strange as the fish.

This one is the bright blue where the sky meets the sea, with spines that’ll shred soft skin if you’re not careful. The split fin is the most confusing to land folk, like he was _this close_ to evolving legs but came just shy of it.

He, too, is a predator with too sharp teeth and a wicked grin.

And there’s blood in the water.


	2. The Sea Giveth and Taketh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Eliza Scott acquires a baby, but at what cost?

Lady Eliza Scott had been a soft woman in her youth before the ocean gave her Wayne. She and her husband Gerald had a son of their own two months before he arrived. It had been a wonderful two months, despite the exhaustion she was facing. Maybe that’s why she let the thing from the ocean into her nest. Yes, she knew damn well what he was when she brought him into her home, but he was a _baby._

He was left on her porch in a loose basket made of seagrass, with a collection of pearls. She looks at him for a while, puzzled. She’d heard the tale hundreds of times during her pregnancy, of monster children from the deep that would tear apart your home if let in. But this was just a baby. A strange baby to be sure, quiet, with eyes so dark they were almost black, but a baby nonetheless.

The moment she picked him up her fate was sealed. She heard the warnings, she saw the signs, and yet still she was so taken in by those pretty dark eyes that she didn’t notice the teeth.

Wayne does not remember much of his first days with his new parents. What he does remember is the taste of blood in his mouth and the wet slick of flesh sliding down his throat.

The Scotts had two sons for a night.

I’m afraid you know where this story goes.

* * *

In the morning they buried their first son, what was left of him at least, in secret.

They did not throw their second son to the sea from whence he came, they did not bash his head in with a rock. They cared for him as best they could as he grew, with an abundance of fresh meat, when they could get it.

If a few of the local kids went missing once he figured out walking, well, kids go missing all the time in port towns, don’t they?

* * *

It was a fraught few years for the Scotts, to say the least, but their gardens flourished. The other ladies of the town often asked Eliza for her secret to such a magnificent yield, but she dodged the questions expertly. It wasn’t her business what her gardeners did, as long as they produced results.

She does not tell them about finding her son, sticky and red with the blood of the Lawsons’ youngest. She does not tell them of the gentle scolding and the pink tinged bathwater. She does not tell them how her husband buried the remains in with the tomatoes.

As the months turn to years, Wayne learns.

From his tutor he learns his letters and numbers.

His father teaches him about the family business and the finer etiquette of negotiations.

The most important lessons come from his mother. She teaches him how to hide in plain sight. She shows him how to move less like a predator and more like a person. She teaches him how to hide his teeth, although this is a lesson he often forgets. Most importantly, she teaches him how to ignore the instincts that tell him to lure and to bite and to tear.

By the time he comes of age, Wayne Scott is a model citizen.

It is of little surprise when it is decided that Wayne, in the place of his father, will travel across the sea to meet with their business partners. Lord Scott has been getting up in years and those long sea voyages “no longer agree with me, my lad.” His passage is already secured on one of their merchant vessels, The Dreadful Persistent.

It is of great surprise when he convinces the captain of the ship to hire on one Roxanne Ritchi as one of the crew.

Roxanne Ritchi is highly regarded among the townsfolk as a spinster in the making. She asks too many questions, she doesn’t have any manners, and she’s entirely too coarse. She’s rejected every suitor that’s ever bothered to try and tame her, including one Wayne Scott, who is all too delighted to keep her company as the one eligible woman in town who hasn’t tried flinging herself at him.

Roxanne tolerates Wayne’s presence. He’s fun, that’s for sure, and he doesn’t try to turn her into a society lady, but there’s one thing she cannot forget.

Wayne Scott is a siren, and her mother always told her she should never trust a siren further than she could spit.

Still, he’s a nice enough lad and when he’s around the Stewart boy stays clear. So she tolerates him.

She hopes this isn't the biggest mistake she’s ever made.

* * *

The day The Dreadful Persistent is to leave the port town, the sky is gentle and the sunrise reflects it’s pinks and oranges upon the waves.

Mrs. Prescott smiles warmly at the quiet, serene beauty of the morning as she starts prepping the bakery for opening. Raising the shutters and putting out the day old bread from yesterday’s batch. The scents from the kitchen waft out through the door, filling the street with the mingling scents of fresh bread and salt air.

It’s a perfectly beautiful moment and she basks, eyes closed, in it’s glow an extra moment before she has to go back inside to tend to the goods.

It’s the moment she opens her eyes that Wayne Scott practically barrels into her, last minute changing course to only catch her slightly in the side sending her spinning into the door. She barely catches herself on the frame.

Flustered and indignant she shouts after him. “Wayne Scott! Just where the hell are you off to in such a damned hurry?”

He barely breaks his stride to turn around, still moving. “Sorry, Mrs. Prescott! I’ve got to get this letter to Roxanne straight away!”

And before she can yell back he’s disappeared down the bend towards Roxanne’s little cottage.

She shakes her head and heads back to the relative safety of the bakery.

Meanwhile, Roxanne Ritchi is lost in the dark. Everything is black and she can’t see the sky, she can’t see the stars! She turns frantically, searching for anything to point her way to the surface. She’s ventured too deep into the stillness, too far into the black.

She’s going to die down here.

Then she sees it, a soft blue glow in the distance. She darts towards it and she gets a glimpse of sharp spines and sharper teeth and there’s a great booming noise and she bolts up, sweat slick and tangled in sheets.

She gulps in the air like she hasn’t tasted it in hours. She startles as the banging starts back up. Who?

“Roxanne!” Of course. Wayne. “Roxanne get up and open this door right now!”

She glances out the window at the pink dawn and groans, flopping back down onto the bed.

“Roxanne I know you’re in there!”

“Wayne, it’s barely even sunrise! What the fuck do you want?”

There’s a blessed moment of quiet. Then he puts on his damn infuriating well-to-do, superior than thou voice. “Well, if you don’t want this letter signed by one _Captain Harker_ of The Dreadful Persistent himself then I suppose I’ll be on my way...”

She can hear the damned smile in his voice but the second he says “captain” she out of bed and down the hall and throwing open the front door. “Gimme now.”

He holds it above his head, which is totally unfair he’s the tallest man anyone in the town has ever seen and she’s average height at best. “First, who’s the best friend you’ve ever had?”

Roxanne crosses her arms and looks at him blankly. “You, unfortunately.”

He laughs loudly and open-mouthed and it takes everything in her, it’s always taken everything in her to not take the umbrella by the door and shove it through his throat.

“Alright, Roxanne,” he smiles down at her, oblivious to the war in her head. “Here’s your letter. I’ll help you pack. We set off in two hours.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a lil taste as to what 4am brain came up with.


End file.
